Waiting in the Wings

It’s funny how my mind can be busy doing one thing and then, suddenly without any warning, it shifts to something completely different. That’s what happened to me today. I was mentally preparing myself for a few other tasks, when out of the blue, my thoughts veered into a totally different direction I hadn’t expected.

I found myself thinking about how, somewhere in the middle of the night, when the world finally starts to quiet down, that the ache we carry somehow grows the loudest.

It’s in those silent moments… when the phone doesn’t ring, when no one shows up at the door, or when another birthday comes and goes without a single word. That’s when the weight of alienation settles in like a thick fog. And it’s not just the parents who’ve been pushed out of their children’s lives, it’s also the grandparents. The ones who never saw it coming. The ones who never imagined they’d be erased too.

We often talk about how alienation cuts off one relationship. But in reality the truth is, it severs an entire family line. It has no mercy as it leaves parents without their children. And it also leaves grandparents sitting by their windows, flipping through old photo albums, wondering what they did to deserve this treatment. Remembering all those bedtime hugs, the silly stories, and backyard adventures thay came to such a sudden end.

If you ask any alienated grandparent, and they’ll likely say: “I never thought I’d ever become a stranger to the child I once held in my arms as a baby.”

And ask the parents, and most of them will tell you: “I never imagined my own mother or father would lose their grandchild because someone I once trusted decided to destroy everything because of me.”

The saddest part? The alienator isn’t satified with severing just one bond—they tear through entire generations. They conciously choose to rewrite the family story. They turn family closeness into distance, and loving memories into something that hurts to much to remember.

Still, both the parents and grandparents hold on. They keep the birthday cards safely tucked away in drawers. In their mind’s eye, they remember the favorite colors, or the silly sayings, and the way a child’s head once rested under their chin. Just like the parents who still hear the words, “I love you, Dad,” or, “Don’t let me go, Mom.”

For those living through this, you know that this pain doesn’t just come and go. Instead, it follows you everywhere. Into the grocery store, where another child looks just like yours. Into every holiday season, where an empty chair sits at the table. Even into your nightly dreams, where the reunion plays out perfectly, until you wake up to the same numbing silence you’ve been carrying for months, and sometimes years.

Yet… we still hope.

That’s what so many outsiders don’t understand. Even after all the unanswered calls, all the doors that were slammed shut on us, all the letters marked “Return to Sender,” we still hope. We hold onto the possibility of one more chance. One more knock on the door. And one more opportunity to say, “I never stopped loving you.”

To the alienated grandparents out there, I want to say this: You’re not forgotten. The grief you feel is real. Your love still matters. That special place you held in your grandchild’s life should never have been taken from you.

To the parents who are still hanging on: Don’t ever let go. You’re not weak for caring. You’re certainly not foolish for loving. After all, you’re a parent, and that’s what we do.

And to those reading this who’ve never lived through this kind of emotional torture: Please know this kind of silence doesn’t happen by accident. It’s designed.. It’s the product of manipulation, control, and the belief that love should have limits.

Maybe one day, the door will open again. Maybe a child, or a grandchild will ask the question that begins to undo all the lies that were told.

Until then, we wait in the wings… together.

David Shubert